


The Red Sun Blooms

by enkiduuude



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bathroom Sex, Body Worship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Refractory Period, PWP, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Addiction, Shower Sex, Slow To Update, look emiya's hot and author just wants to see him banging tf out of gudao ok, this is degeneracy at its finest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24302695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkiduuude/pseuds/enkiduuude
Summary: What a terrible situation—at this rate, even Emiya wasn’t going to be able to keep up the “cool” character he held so much pride in. His Master, on the other hand, had already tossed aside his pride as a man for some dick—gone was that innocent youth, whose only desire used to be for an unlimited supply of Saint Quartz.… Then again, there was only himself to blame for that.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka/Heroic Spirit EMIYA | Archer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	The Red Sun Blooms

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** please read only if you're okay with anything and everything.
> 
> also: emiya might be a lil ooc but keep in mind that this is pretty much PWP, so some sacrifices are gonna have to be made :^/
> 
> i debated whether or not to upload this since i haven't finished the second part but since im a cocktease here's a spicy preview to pretty much this entire story
> 
> second part prob won't be uploaded for a week or so cause fgo x requiem collab and fgo na 10 mil campaign got me grinding like a madman sorry guys

The clock read 2300.

It was during that lonely hour that Chaldea—no, the _world_ itself—finally stood still, as if to hold its breath in anticipation for the coming of a new dawn.

Yet, in the depths of silence, there was a disturbance—albeit, small, and unimportant.

The cause of that “disturbance” was a secret meeting between two individuals—or rather, a young man and one of the heroic spirits that was bound to him by contract.

The young man had grown considerably from the time the archer clad in red was first summoned. Since the beginning, he’d thought of him as a naïve child. He was no better than a certain foolish boy he faced in a certain distant city long ago, with his illogical idealism and lack of self-preservation. It was honestly a surprise the boy hadn’t lost an arm or leg yet, with how giving he was.

But as different as they were, the red archer could never bring himself to abandon the boy. Perhaps it was his hopelessness that compelled the archer to stay and protect him, or the awe-struck light twinkling in those winter-blue eyes.

… Maybe they’d imprinted on each other, like a duckling to its mother. No matter where the red archer went, his Master was sure to follow, chirping his name and pulling on his sleeve.

_ Emiya, what’s for dinner? _

So…

_ Emiya, look at this new trick I learned! _

Just when…

_ Emiya, Emiya! _

Did that childlike innocence begin to change?

“Emiya…” said his Master, his tone unusually timid. One would have thought him to be drunk with how flushed his cheeks were, but the archer knew that his Master was one who abstained from drinking.

His winter-blue eyes were hazy, as though he were in a dream. Lifting his chin, he smiled at the archer with the sweetness of a wife greeting her husband. As he sat up from the edge of his bed, the blanket wrapped around him slipped like water, revealing the naked figure hidden underneath. Naturally, as a man the Master's body was masculine—but compared to the Heroic Spirits that surrounded him he was quite lean. Glancing down, Emiya swallowed back a groan, barely holding himself together.

Seemingly unsatisfied with the dull reaction, the Master begun to fidget on his feet. They had already embraced so many times before, yet he still trembled beneath the archer’s expressionless gaze. “Emiya…” he murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. “You know I can’t help it… I keep thinking about it, and it’s making me lose sleep, so…”

Another step.

Another uneasy breath.

“Hold me again, Emiya.”

Phrased like a command, yet spoken like a question. Such demure nature was unlike Fujimaru Ritsuka—but not unwelcome. Rather, the red archer felt a disturbing sort of pride in being the only one his Master approached in this state.

Within a few steps, the distance between man and servant quickly closed. Ritsuka clung to Emiya’s bosom, resting his head against him. His soft breaths, warm like spring, tickled the archer’s nape. Having both hands spread open on his chest, they slithered lazily over his abdominal muscles, tracing the shape of his bump before one hand made its way to his lower half.

Master? No, a minx—this young man who’d barely known how to kiss a month ago was suddenly a professional at riling up the red archer, tempting him with that childishly eager nature.

“What’s this? You’re so hard Emiyaan~” sang Ritsuka as he hooked both arms around the archer’s neck, as well as one leg around the other’s before hoisting himself up. His pale hips rubbed against Emiya’s own, his adorably pink cock leaking all over the archer’s pants as he did so. Then he pulled himself close, pressing a soft kiss against Emiya’s lips. “…You know, I really, _really_ wanna feel you cum inside me again…”

Another gentle kiss, another eager little rut against the tent in his pants. He was clinging to the archer so tight, his limbs were beginning to shake; still, he held onto him, rubbing up against his body like a cat in heat as his quiet whining grew into fervent mewls. 

“E-Emi _yaaa…_ please… I know you want it too, you’re so _hard…”_

The scent of lust was growing heavy, seeping into Emiya’s clothes and into his skin, clouding his better judgement. 

_ ‘Self-control, self-control, self— _

_ You know what? _

_ Fuck it.’ _

Closing his eyes, Emiya surrendered himself to the obscenity of it all with a heavy sigh; hooking both hands under his Master’s bare thighs, he lifted him up and carried him over to the bed with ease. “Well, Ritsuka, if you want to get fucked so bad…” he murmured while straddling him, his grey eyes narrowing upon seeing the elated expression on the Master’s face.

What a terrible situation—at this rate, even Emiya wasn’t going to be able to keep up the “cool” character he held so much pride in. His Master, on the other hand, had already tossed aside his pride as a man for some dick—gone was that innocent youth, whose only desire used to be for an unlimited supply of Saint Quartz.

… Then again, there was only himself to blame for that.


End file.
